


it comes and goes in waves

by sirensongs (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 50th Hunger Games, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Hunger Games, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sirensongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 50th Hunger Games mark a Quarter Quell. Louis knows his chances of being selected in the Reaping are doubled as the Capitol decides to honor the Quell by selecting two males and two females from each District.</p><p>~ or an au feat. district four harry and louis ~</p>
            </blockquote>





	it comes and goes in waves

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you like this idk i've wanted to do a hunger games au forever now and it means a lot to me so yeah :') and you can check me out on tumblr at http://sugarandstyles.tumblr.com ♡

Louis lets his feet idle in the water. He doesn’t want to think about what’s coming but how can’t he? It’s going to be a Quarter Quell, and not only will one boy and one girl be chosen but this time it will be two of each. His feet were buried in the sand before this but something about the feel of the recursive waves and the tingle of the little bits of seaweed, somehow they calm him.

Before Louis made it down to the shore he saw the families crying, as they always did on Reaping Day. He saw Niall, hugging his older siblings and his mother and father. Louis wanted to speak with them but something in him just couldn’t do it. He feels callow and empty, if he’s too much of a coward to speak to his best friend on Reaping Day, a day when they may never see each other ever again, how will he possibly make it out alive if his name is chosen?

“Louis.” _Speak of the devil._

Louis doesn’t look up, he can’t manage. He just keeps his eyes set on the crashing water before him. He can picture Niall perfectly; sunkissed skin, golden blonde hair and a fishing net slung over his shoulder, maybe his spear if he’s up for it. Niall never really _liked_ killing anything.

“Hey,” Louis finally mutters. He doesn’t _want_ to be this weak. How could he be such a coward? This shouldn’t be so difficult. He knows that and he can only find comfort in knowing that if there’s anyone who won’t judge him for being so sentimental and alarmed, it’s Niall.

Niall sets his small bag between them and shuffles down to perch himself on the sand right next to Louis. “You’re nervous, huh?”

“Don’t want it to be Lottie.” None of Louis’ other sisters are old enough yet. “Or my mum.”

“Won’t be,” Niall admits. “It won’t be.”

Louis finds that strangely reassuring. It shouldn’t be, actually, because it’s just a bunch of empty words without any reasoning or evidence but Louis just, he just _needs_ some sort of hope. _Twice_ as many Tributes. He can’t even begin to fathom it and he’s never in his life felt so much hatred towards the Capitol.

“Hey boys,” Zayn’s familiar voice is trudging up behind them. Niall reaches up to do some absurd handshake before Zayn plops down next to Louis and pats at his back. “You doing all right young Poseidon?”

Louis simply nods. “I’ve actually never felt better.” His sarcasm is never lost on Zayn, who just punches Louis in the shoulder with a friendly intonation. “Is that rum I smell?”

Zayn smiles out at the sky. “What do you think?” He laughs. “Can’t do this day sober, can I?”

“Do you do any day sober?” Louis really doesn’t mean to come off as judgmental as he does but he knows it doesn’t bother Zayn. Zayn’s the kind of person who is just one hundred and ten percent straight with people, he doesn’t sugarcoat and he doesn’t bluff. If he was going to be offended by Louis he would be clear about it but he has a soft spot for his best friends and he knows Niall and Louis both just want what’s best for him.

Louis also knows why Zayn speaks about this day so solemnly. He laughs like he always does and his eyes crinkle into a little sparkle but he isn’t the same, he won’t ever be the same, Louis thinks sadly.

It was Reaping Day four years ago, Zayn was standing on the boys’ side of the lot, exchanging smiles with his friends and his relatives. McQueen, the escort for District Four, was standing on stage in her bright pink outfit, heels taller than humanly possible and jewelry even more ostentatious than that she wore the year prior. Zayn was trying his best not to think about the Games yet, he just kept patting Louis on the shoulder and telling him it’d all be okay and that there was no way they’d be chosen.

Thankfully, he was right. A strong boy was chosen, one who everyone had always thought would fare entirely too well in the Games, one who they _knew_ would win. The smile on Zayn’s face was wider than he had ever seen before, a smile so incredibly genuine and relieved and he just grinned over to his sisters and then seemed to almost be tearing up because for one more year he could be with his family and friends in peace.

“No!” A cry was heard from the stage and Louis recognized that the Peacemakers were grabbing a girl by her arms, from her hand a dagger fell and it appeared she was trying to commit suicide on stage, appeared she was trying to escape the horror of the Games. Within moments of her thrashing, screaming, and attempting to escape, she was shot.

McQueen sighed, her voice long and drawn out as the tiny crystals on her lips formed into a frown of mixed emotions. “Oh, dear, oh, dear.” The crowd was silent as the girl’s body was dragged away, blood was being pressure washed off the stage and Louis looked to Zayn in horror, Niall grabbed Louis’ arm on the other side of him.

A smile curled across McQueen’s face, “Never mind then.” She sauntered over to the large bowl of names. “A new Tribute for District Four will be chosen, hopefully this one will be more... _Compliant._ ” She grinned as she reached down into the bowl, fingering through the folded pieces of paper until she grabbed one and held it up in front of her eyes. Her face just lit up as if she’d seen the happiest thing known to man. “Doniya Malik!”

“No!” Zayn howled. “No, please, no, can’t I take her place?” The crowd was silent.

“I’m sorry,” McQueen smiled out at the audience, not really acknowledging Zayn as an individual but treating it as the television event it was. “A male Tribute may not, under any circumstances, volunteer in place of a female Tribute. If you’d like to take the place of Corrigan...” And so he did. Zayn volunteered. Louis cried and Niall cried and they watched as Corrigan, dumbfounded and distressed stepped off the stage and the meek Zayn climbed the steps, taking McQueen’s hand. She asked Zayn his name and he said it through teary eyes.

“Our Tributes for District Four—Zayn and Doniya Malik!” His family could be heard sobbing and everyone else remained incredibly silent. So silent that Louis could hear the soft sobs of Doniya as she was pulled into a hug by Zayn.

And Zayn vowed to protect Doniya, it was all he  had, all he cared about. He didn’t want to make it out alive, he just wanted her to. But the canon went off one night. One night Doniya knew that Zayn couldn’t protect her and herself any more and she knew she was weak, knew she couldn’t make it much longer and so she sacrificed herself to the snakes so Zayn could get away. All of Panem watched as Zayn cried, tears never left his face until he was boarding the lift and being taken back to the Capitol. Even then he couldn’t seem to shake the horrors of the Arena and Louis knew it.

Ever since his sister was chosen in the Reaping and was the fourth to be killed in the Games, Zayn has been a shell of himself in some ways. He isn’t completely lost or detached but a part of him left with her and Louis wishes he could help, wishes he could just give Zayn that piece of him he’s missing.

“I’ll volunteer for either of you if you’re chosen,” Zayn says absolutely.

Louis shakes his head, “No, you won’t Zayn. No, you won’t. You need to be here for your sisters and your mother.”

“If either of them are chosen I’m going back,” Zayn doesn’t seem to be wavering on this. “This time I won’t let them get hurt.”

Louis doesn’t argue with Zayn, he can’t. There’s no will for it anymore, he hears it every year and he just doesn’t want to have to consider it as an option. He knows, deep down, it could happen. And Zayn could go back and be a Tribute but he just doesn’t want to even imagine it.

***

An hour before the Reaping Louis watches as his sisters put on sparkling teal dresses and stand before the mirror, his mother twirling their hair and adorning them with various things; seashells, starfish, pearls. Living in District Four, Louis doesn’t know thoroughly of poverty but he knows that it’s just him and his mother supporting their family and so he knows of struggle in some fashions.

Louis watches as the girls solemnly avoid each other’s eyes, and Lottie looks the most disturbed of them all. Louis really wishes he could just not think of it, wishes he could distract himself but there’s nothing more eminent than the Reaping and the potential dangers involved.

Louis quickly changes himself, wearing a pair of khaki shorts that have been worn thousands of times probably, they permanently smell of sea salt and sadness. He wants to go back down to the sea, to just skip the Reaping. If only it were possible. He knows that the ocean was more honest than anyone he knew, more trust could be put in the kissing tide than anything else.

“The time has come,” McQueen is wearing a bright purple dress, floor-length and intricately decorated with beads and what look to be feathers. Her hair is tall and purple as well. Louis knows that this is just how the Capitol folks dress. “For the fiftieth annual Reaping. This celebration of the Capitol’s generosity allows us to choose one lucky male and female to represent District Four in the Arena, in a battle to the death resulting in one victor. However during a glorious Quarter Quell such as this, we are granted with a twist in the Games. This year, as you know, two males and two females will be selected!” McQueen’s pearly white smile is haunting as she presents this information.

Everyone is silent. Louis looks around and finds his mother and his sisters standing together in the back. He sees Lottie across the crowd and she is looking at the ground, eyes glassy and lips trembling. He wants to hug her and help her know that everything is all right.

“We’ll start with the girls,” McQueen chirps. “Ladies first, of course.” She reaches down into the giant glass conch shell and draws out a name, reads it out and Louis just knows it’s not Lottie’s name and it’s not one of Zayn’s sisters. The girl isn’t crying, she’s not emoting at all as she’s brought onto the stage. The next girl is not his or Zayn’s sibling either but Louis knows her from his knot-tying class. She was always generous and helpful but she wasn’t ever particularly skilled in any of the fishing techniques like the others and so Louis feels a bit of remorse as he unwittingly decides on her fate, realizing she is shaking and tears are rolling down her cheeks because she knows just as well as the others that she doesn’t stand a chance in the Games. A career should be volunteering for her, Louis thinks, but nobody says anything.

“The males are next!” Louis hears McQueen squeak and he curls his hands into tight fists.

Louis can’t even hear her as she announces the first name, it happens every year. Something in him begins jumping around and clawing at his chest to get out. It’s anxiety, he thinks. He feels like everything is blurry around him, like everything is ripping away from him and he can’t control it. He hopes Zayn doesn’t have to go into the Arena, that’s all he really hopes at this point.

Then someone is nudging his arm, and he’s shaken back. “Louis Tomlinson?” McQueen repeats herself and she squints at the paper she’s holding. She seems to notice Louis because everyone around him is turning and stepping a bit away, looking to him to see how he reacts. His heart drops and his breath hitches. He looks to Zayn immediately who is stunned, for a moment, and he knows Zayn is about to volunteer and so he just shakes his head quickly, eyes begging Zayn not to.

“Don’t,” Louis nearly chokes on the simple word. Zayn is still standing right next to him, the only one besides Niall who seems to be in a trance. Niall’s looking to Louis for an answer or something. Louis just sighs, “Zayn please, don’t. Let me do this. I can do this, okay? You have to be here for your family. You’ve done enough. Please. I won’t forgive you if you volunteer.”

So Zayn simply nods slowly and knowingly, pulling Louis in for a hug and the bourbon is a strong scent that Louis has almost gotten used to. “Love you man.”

Louis fights back tears, “you too.” And then Niall is squeezing him tight. His family is sobbing, it’s all he can hear as the Peacemakers start to bring him up to the stage. He looks back to see them and he knows how it all goes. He knows that now he gets one chance to say goodbye and if he doesn’t make it out of that Arena alive he doesn’t ever see them again.

“Harry Styles,” McQueen calls as Louis stands beside her. And that’s it, all four Tributes have been chosen. Louis is only eighteen, yet he was so close to being at the age  of immunity. So close to never having to worry about himself being in the Arena, though he knows that he’d always be worried about his sisters until they were each of age as well.

The boy she calls, Harry Styles, is shaken. He’s younger than Louis, his face gives that much away. He’s tall, though, and gangly and he usually has a smile on his face as he’s selling fish and clothing his sister Gemma makes. Louis doesn’t quite like the way his smile is absent, almost like it never even existed at all.

“Shake hands, gentleman,” McQueen is grinning and she holds down the microphone. “It’s for the cameras,” she discreetly says between her smiling teeth.

Harry takes Louis hand and he seems to be pleading for Louis’ help. As if Louis could do something to help the kid. Louis just fights back tears and grips his hand, searching for some sort of hope during this time of unrest.

***

Louis can’t even look his family in the eye for what feels like an eternity, he feels so weak. Luckily it’s actually only a few seconds before he is embraced in such tight hugs and, sure, tears are flowing but Louis just shakes them off. “I’m going to come back, okay?”

His mother and sisters all nod, they all act like they believe him. “I’m going to come back and we’re going to have lots of food and a nicer house, bigger so nobody has to share a room or anything. Right? You guys know I’ll be back.”

Louis’ mother just smiles, nodding as tears run down her face. “I love you, Louis, don’t you forget that.”

“I love you, too.” Lottie says, and Daisy and Phoebe and Fiz all cry and they muffle out that they love him as well.

“Love you guys,” Louis smiles, trying his absolute best not to cry. He can’t think of the alternative, it’s like his brain has switched modes. He doesn’t think of _what if_ ’s or _but_ ’s, he just knows he has to survive. As the Peacekeepers take his family away from him he just knows it can’t be the last time he sees them and so he only tries to suppress the stupid fear and subconscious self-destructive thoughts as best he can.

Zayn and Niall are waving at the train station as he and Harry are led onto the platform and then they’re gone in a flash. McQueen is letting Harry and Louis know some things about the Capitol but Louis can’t concentrate on anything she’s saying. He sees Harry absently staring at the floor and rubbing his hands together, swallowing hard every few moments.

They’re sitting in the main compartment, McQueen is drinking champagne from a tall, expensive looking flute. There are tiny cakes and delicacies littering the silver dishes atop all of the nice furniture. Louis is thinking of what he can say to Harry, what he can try and do to help him not feel so afraid but he wonders if it’s best to even try and be friendly with Harry. He knows that in the end Harry will have to die, worst case scenario he’ll have to kill him.

The girls are in another compartment. McQueen and another woman from the Capitol were discussing it as they boarded the train and they officially decided to keep them separate for mentoring purposes. Louis knows there is a reason that they aren’t telling them but he just complies.

A small woman makes her way through the sliding door and takes a seat on the sofa across from Harry and Louis. “Hello,” she says, her voice is so soft that Louis can’t even hear her, can’t even tell if she actually said _hello_ , even.

“Hi,” Harry says.

“Hi,” Louis echoes slowly. Louis recognizes her, of course, it’s Mags, the victor of the fifth Hunger Games. She mentors every other year or so, he thinks, and he knows that she suffered a terrible stroke and he can only imagine the intensity of whatever PTSD she experiences from the Arena. He hopes when he makes it home to his family he’s not emotionally or mentally scared past the point of full functionality.

Mags can’t speak, she tries to say things but she just ends up smiling and nodding to them as they discuss the Games. Harry is engaging with Mags, Louis thinks it’s quite nice because he wants to engage with her as well and it isn’t that he lacks tact, per se, but he just worries about offending her or seeming rude because he can’t quite understand what she means sometimes as she mumbles.

The boys are sitting together for the entirety of the trip from District Four to the Capitol, though it’s entirely too short a trip if Louis is to be honest. Halfway through their journey McQueen raises her glass to summon a toast.

“I know for a fact the victor of the Games is sitting in this very train car,” she seems too pleased. “I can sense these sorts of things.”

Louis’ ears perk up. “Can we just figure out our best strategy,” because after all of the idle chat with McQueen and Mags about the history of the Games and the delicacies on the train and everything, Louis just wants to know how he can survive.

Mags speaks, her voice is frail and it’s knowing in some way that Louis hasn’t ever heard. “You’ll need to be fast. Get to the cornucopia and find a trident or a spear, then get away from all of the other Tributes.” Louis and Harry stare as Mags struggles to get her ideas across, as she forces the words out with short breaths and as she frowns. Her eyes are filling with tears.

“Mags...” Harry begins, his eyes seem to be begging her to stop thinking about the Games, to not strain herself.

“No,” Louis says. “Let her finish.”

Harry looks to Louis like he’s remarkably rude, though a strong sense of admiration shows itself.

Mags nods carefully. “The cornucopia is where many of them will die, fighting each other for items. Try and find a backpack if you can. And a trident, yes, I said that...” McQueen is sipping her drink and staring down at the diamonds lining the toe of her shoe. “You two get away from everyone else,” Louis feels a sting as he remembers that he and Harry are first and foremost allies, supposed to help keep each other alive until the very end of the Games. And then...

“I’ll protect you,” Harry says quietly. He’s folding his hands and stretching them out past his knees.

Louis usually would say something smart, something about how he doesn’t need Harry to protect him, but the younger boy seems so innocent and sincere that Louis just nods languidly, much thought surrounding his next words: “Thank you.”

And then he nods quicker, looking around the room at Mags and McQueen. Sure, Louis might’ve thought that Harry wasn’t fit for the Games, that he was a bit meak and naive and defenseless in some ways, but he was this nice young man from his District and Louis officially decided he would make sure he and Harry survived. Both of them. If it were somehow possible... “I’ll protect you, too.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, allowing his lips to curl into a grateful smile. Harry was like a stupid little kitten, all adorable and harmless.

Louis wonders what Harry has to offer, wonders what he can possibly be hiding behind that demure little smile because there’s no way he’s remaining that calm if he doesn’t think he can somehow survive the Games, if he doesn’t think he really _can_ protect Harry.

“You’ll have to show the Capitol your strengths, you know that.” It’s as if Mags can read Louis’ mind. He just solemnly looks to Harry, noting the pensive look sliding down his face.

***

“Everybody’s here to see you,” McQueen says to Louis as she fixes the collar that itches at his neck. He looks like some sort of giant fish from the sea; blue and green sequins trail down his legs and arm and tulle travels up his neck and around his waist. They have on shimmering navy blue full body suits and there are live starfish and barnacles on their shoulders. How this is fashion, Louis doesn’t quite understand.

Harry seems to be enjoying the outfits. The girls, with whom Louis has had short conversations, seem to be rather interested in their puffy skirts and absurdly high heels. Louis doesn’t need to think about them, though, as McQueen and Mags have instructed Louis and Harry, their main alliances are each other. Then, depending on their scores, maybe the girls from four. They have been told to find any other useful Tributes from other Districts and to latch onto them if they feel they can trust them at all.

“I’m scared,” Harry finally says.

Louis wants to say something rude and biting, he can feel some sort of hot lava bubbling up inside of him at this comment, as if Harry thought he was somehow different from the rest of the Tributes, as if he thought he was the only one who was scared.

He only nods, looking ahead as the other Tributes begin to be pulled out from under the shade of the industrial building and into the sunlight where they ride down the street, drums banging and crowds cheering. Louis and Harry are in one cart being pulled by horses and the girls are in another. Mags insists on their bonding and they’re one of the only Districts who don’t pair up a girl and a boy for each cart. Louis takes Harry’s hand, stupidly, he thinks, as the horses trot along and the sunlight blinds them. He repositions so that their arms are pointed straight up, hands intertwined into powerful fists and he sees the girls are doing it as well.

Ceasar Flickerman is saying how amazing District Four looks, commenting on the materials and the color choices but Louis can only feel Harry’s rapid heartbeat thrumming through his palm. President Snow looks smug as always and Louis avoids eye contact. He can’t bear to look into the eyes of the man who is responsible for his being here.

Once they’re finished with the parade they’re taken up to their temporary living quarters, a modern expanse of silver and cold colors. Harry and Louis have separate rooms but McQueen is sure to make them interact at dinner and before bed as well.

“You worried about the Games?” Harry has a way of asking questions that irritate Louis.

“No, not at all,” Louis says with sharp sarcasm and it’s too intense so he just gives in. “Yes.”

Harry sits next to Louis. They should be asleep but Louis is sitting at the kitchen table and is nibbling at an apple. “I think you’re going to make it.”

“Don’t say that,” Louis knows the reason he doesn’t want Harry to say it is because of the sincerity behind his voice. Harry saying that is like Harry admitting he’s given up. Like Harry knows he’s defeated and the best chance they have is in Louis.

“I don’t want you to protect me, Louis.” Harry finally says. That irritates Louis, too. He already told Harry he’d protect him and so he doesn’t understand where this new attitude is coming from. “I just want you to get home to your family.”

Louis sighs, “You need to get to your family, too.”

“They’ll be fine,” Harry says with a hint of too much honesty, too much stock put into his words. “They probably don’t even remember I’m gone.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.” Louis tells him.

Harry shrugs at this. He lifts a brow, “Not everyone’s family is like yours, Tomlinson.”

“Oh, no, _Styles_?” Louis snips. He doesn’t even want to consider that Harry’s family might not be one loving unit, one big group of people who are sniffling and watching Harry on the Games and wondering what they did to deserve this. Louis wouldn’t say he gave people the benefit of the doubt, per se, because he probably didn’t do that enough. He definitely just hoped that Harry’s family was better than that.

“They don’t really like me being gay,” Harry just says it like he’s going to throw up and so Louis’ eyes settle on him and melt like butter on a pan. “This is probably best.”

Louis hasn’t told Harry he’s gay, too, but everyone in District Four just sort of knew and so he assumes Harry knows. “Harry...”

“It’s okay, Louis.” He smiles weakly. “I used to think I wasn’t, that it was some kind of disease or a phase or something I could control. But... Something made me realize I couldn’t change it.”

“What made you realize?” Louis asks curiously, he wants to give Harry a hug, wants to help him to feel special and loved but Louis knows he can’t afford to think that way given his current situation.

Harry smiles, “Who...”

“Boys,” McQueen practically stumbles in, bright pink pajamas and obnoxiously large silver puffy slippers. She even has her signature martini glass in her hand as she adjusts the eye mask she’s pulled over her forehead. “It’s really time for bed, you have a big day tomorrow.”

***

The other Tributes had shown impeccable talent during training and now, as Louis and Harry sits beside Elouise and Melanie, the female Tributes from District Four, Louis isn’t so sure about how he’ll display his talents.. He doesn’t really stand a chance when compared to these other Tributes after all. Even Harry had figured out that he was quite skilled at making fishing devices. Louis doesn’t quite know how to make them because his family had some tridents and so he simply walks into the room as his name was called and saw that the Capitol citizens were sitting down enjoying some desserts and laughing as there was some sort of dead animal’s carcass strewn across the ground with blood scoring the walls and pools settling where footprints had contrasted.

“Louis Tomlinson, District Four,” Louis says to them and they watch with eager eyes. Their table is long and spans the entire length of the room. They’re all dressed to the nines and smiling as if they’re going to see the greatest thing they’ve ever seen.

Louis doesn’t know what to do, he thought he could find a trident but he doesn’t see one. McQueen was sure they’d have one but it seems she was wrong. He walks up the arsenal and sees a long spear and so he picks it up, feeling the metal against his palm and evaluating the weight. He steps over to the wall where mannequins are lined up and he rears back, throwing the spear and feeling satisfied as it pierces through the mannequin’s smiling face.

The Capitol folk smile and clap, one woman whistles and another man cheers. The head Gamemaker seems impressed and he claps his hands, a muffled noise resonating from between the soft white gloves. Louis feels some sort of resentment shoot through his body like waves of electricity.

He keeps his calm and he just bows and forces an absolutely horrible false smile.

“Good luck,” Louis says offhandedly to Harry as he sees him in passing, heading in opposite directions. He doesn’t mean to sound rude to Harry, he just hates the Capitol and its residents and he hopes they burn.

***

“I don’t think I can do this,” Harry tells Louis sadly as they receive their scores. McQueen and Mags and Lira (the girls’ mentor) are all ecstatic—Nobody from District Four scored lower than an eight, which is swell because that means they’ll get sponsors evidently.

Harry got a nine, which Louis thought was very good. He was impressed and he didn’t bother to ask Harry what he’d done because he didn’t want to sound surprised. Louis, on the other hand, scored a ten. Which he didn’t understand. All he’d done was pierce a spear through a mannequin.

“It’ll be okay,” Louis tells Harry. “Want to go for a walk or something?”

Harry nods at this.

They walk down to the garden of the Tribute center, the night is calm and threatening because Louis knows they’re being watched at all times. “You never finished telling me why you decided to come out.”

“It’s stupid,” Harry says, chuckling and sitting down against the marble fountain, plucking one of the bright purple flowers from the bed on the ground.

Louis sits next to him and he shakes his head, “Oh come on. I doubt it.”

“You.” The word slips from Harry’s lips like hot honey, Louis can almost see it drip in slow motion and he feels it hit him in a thick wave.

“Me?” Louis squints at this, “How could it be me?”

“You were always so happy to be yourself and everybody liked you.”

Louis scoffs, “Harry not everybody liked _me_. It’s called being an excellent actor.”

“Well I liked you,” Harry admits. “I do like you. And I think I sort of know _you_ , not a character.” Harry holds up the flower and he gently tucks it behind Louis’ ear.

Louis almost shivers at the touch, Harry feels so natural with him and he doesn’t understand why. “Thank you.” That’s all he can come up with but it seems to be enough.

“Can I kiss you, Louis?” Harry asks. “One time before it all starts, before it all really starts.”

Louis stands up, turning away, “No, absolutely not.” He then looks over his shoulder with a sly grin and he sees Harry standing, taking his waist and then he feels warm, soft lips against his own and he wishes for a moment that he could be like this forever.

“Glad you think ‘no’ means ‘yes’,” Louis says with a cocked brow once they’re standing in each other’s arms. “That’ll be helpful in the Arena, I’m sure.”

The thought of the Arena shakes Louis back from this brief euphoric state. “Come on, Harry, we should get some food before the interviews start.” And he’s right. Louis wonders what in the actual hell he was thinking. The last thing he needed was to be distracted by some sort of false emotions.

***

Ceasar Flickerman stands on the stage and the lights flicker low, the horn playing high and then, as usual, it drops octaves and a roaring beat slips through the speakers, the lights blaring and the crowd goes wild. It’s as if this is the most incredible thing they’d ever seen. Ceasar in his bright pink tuxedo and his hair quiffed in its own eccentric magenta style.

He laughs and howls, using his arms to rile up the crowd, encouraging them to go wild. Louis stands backstage, suited up in a bright blue ensemble, as usual for District Four. Harry stands beside him, he’s attempted to take Louis’ hand a few times but Louis casually moved away just in time.

The other Districts went by in something of a blur. Lush and Pierre from District One stand out as people Louis wanted to stay away from, as well as Fang from District Two. District Three’s Tributes all seemed meek and mild except for one with pointed glasses and a squared jaw. Louis finds out this one is named Liam. The girls go on to represent Four and Louis is absolutely the most nervous he’s been since the Reaping, even the Parade seemed less personal and intrusive than this.

During all previous Games the male and female Tributes from each District would be interviewed separately. However, seeing as there are double the Tributes, the males are interviewed together after the females are interviewed in pairs as well.

“Break a leg,” Mags and McQueen are pushing Louis and Harry out to the wing of the stage.

“And now from District Four we have the boys, we’ve certainly seen something interesting sparking between these two fisherman, now, haven’t we?” Ceasar laughs his usual excited laugh and then motions backstage. “Please welcome Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles!”

Louis is pushed out and Harry’s following behind him. Ceasar takes his hand and shakes it, then he’s inviting them to sit. It all happens so incredibly fast that Louis can’t even really keep up with what’s happening.

“Tell me, did you two know each other before the Games?” Ceasar is speaking to Harry.

“No,” Harry says. “Not really.”

  “So you two have become quite quick friends,” Ceasar says enthusiastically.

Louis nods after much silence, “Yes.”

“Louis is great,” Harry says solemnly. “It’s a shame someone so wonderful has to be part of the Games.”

Louis wonders what Harry is doing, he wants to slap him and tell him to shut up but he also feels a slight bit of appreciation for such kind words. “The same could be said for Harry,” Louis decides his only chance is to play along. Though he does, indeed, mean it.

“Well we were all certainly very interested in your little meeting before the interviews started,” Ceasar says with a huge grin. Louis looks, bug eyed, to Harry. They wouldn’t bring up the kiss, would they? Ceasar looks up to where the cameras are and it seems he’s speaking to some unseen entity: “Can we see a little replay of the Four male Tributes?”

Behind them, on a large screen, Harry and Louis are shown at the Reaping. Louis feels his heart being yanked from his chest. “Yes,” Ceasar says. And then they’re seen on the train, where Louis didn’t even know they had cameras. They’re only talking. A bit more footage shows them at the Parade, holding hands, and the crowd lets out an exasperated ‘aw’ unanimously. Then they’re training and then they’re seeing their scores for the first time. All of these moments Louis knew they were being watched but he never imagined they’d be seeing these moments like this. Then they’re kissing. And the crowd is all ‘awwwwww’s all over again.

“Well we certainly are rooting for these two love birds,” Ceasar says, looking to the crowd. “Aren’t we?” The crowd goes wild and Louis tries to hide a look of disgust and shock in the people as Harry grabs his hand. They’re all so happy to be watching these Games. “Now tell me,” He looks to them both with such big eyes. “We know only one Tribute can be victorious—”

“It’ll be Louis.” Harry interjects. “I’ll make sure of it if it’s the last thing I do.”

Louis wonders just how stupid he looks now. Now he has to help Harry to win or else he won’t have sponsors. Of course, they’ve heard time and time again just how badly they’re in need of sponsors. Just how much each single sponsor means to them and their chances of winning. Now what? He simply smiles and Ceasar nods. “Very well, you two. Thank you, and good luck.”

***

“You guys can do this,” Louis’ stylist, Jem, tells him. He hasn’t had much of a chance to really get to know her and he isn’t sure he really, truly appreciates her style. He doesn’t mind aqua, in fact, teal is his favorite color, but she’s really taken it to the extreme and all they’ve worn during the entire event is aqua.

The outfits they’re wearing for the Arena, however, aren’t aqua at all. They’re black, full body skin tight suits. They have jackets on and they’re given gloves and scarves as well. This is enough to worry Louis and he can’t speak. He gives McQueen and Mags hugs and he looks to Harry before they’re separated and taken down different hallways. Harry seems to be just as nervous. He says something and Louis thinks it sounds like ‘find me’ but he can’t be sure. All he can focus on is the fact that he’s being thrust into the Arena with bloodthirsty Tributes and he’s got to try his very best to make it out alive. He hears a ticking as Jem leads him into a small room and they’re left to prep.

“So this outfit leads me to believe you’re in for a tundra,” Jem says. “So you should try your best to get to a backpack in the cornucopia if you can, they probably have tinder boxes. You know how to make a fire?”

Louis sighs, “Not exactly, but I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“Good,” Jem says. “And you don’t want to over exert if you can help it. It’ll be so cold that you’ll feel the pain of sharp breaths and it’ll slow you down.” It all sounds easy but Louis knows it won’t be. “Onto the platform,” Jem says softly. She seems to be a lot more upset to be parting from Louis than he does from her.

He steps back onto the platform and a glass case slides down around him, he’s encased in a cylinder and as the ticking gets nearer a voice chimes ‘three seconds to launch’ and Louis realizes she’s been updating them since ten seconds but his mind has been absolutely everywhere so he must’ve been tuning it out quite well.

As the voice declares it’s time and Louis feels the platform beneath him begin to rise. He watches as Jem waves goodbye and suddenly a bright light consumes the tube. He feels instant shock from how cold it is and he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, burrowing his chin into his jacket.

Louis looks around. An intense chiming is thrumming through the air and snow is flicking against his face, a flurry of course is taking place as soon as they’re all standing there, each Tribute looking confused and some, like those of the career Districts, looking _ready_.

One Tribute is swiping away at her face as if to deflect the snow. In her efforts she loses her footing and she slips. It only takes a brief instant as she falls; she puts her hands out to try and catch herself and the second her finger touches the ground a landmine goes off as promised and the snow is being blown into the sky. A cannon goes off and a few of the other Tributes must have thought that it was the canon for the Games to begin because they started off in a run off their platforms and more mines and canons went off.

Finally, as Louis watches in terror, the snow subsides. It was the way of the Games, for them to have a little fun and kill off some people just for the thrill of it. The Capitol just loves to watch the people die and there are twice as many this year so Louis figures they’re just having some fun before the Games truly begin. The snow melts off the meadow and Louis sees that it was coming from a big snow-capped mountain. Louis felt sick, realizing just how much control the Gamemaker had over the Arena, being able to melt the snow so quickly to reveal a beautiful grassy meadow with flowers and butterflies.

Harry was standing on the other side of the cornucopia, Louis figures it out because to his immediate left he has Melanie, another Tribute from Four. Beside them they have two of the Tributes from District Three to their left and District Five to their right. So if the circle was winding around in chronological order then Harry and Elouise would be directly across from them.

The final canon sounds, it’s a bit more of a hollow sound than the canons signaling death and Louis wants to find Harry but he knows first he has to absolutely sprint to grab one of those backpacks because not only had Jem advised him to but Mags had as well. He runs into the bloodbath, watching as some of the faster and stronger kill the weaker Tributes with not so much as a wince. He grabs a backpack and two small knives that remind him of a trident. Ducking a flying spear he hurries around the other side of the cornucopia.

Before he can reach Harry, Louis feels a tear at his right side. He screams in pain and watches as a sword slashes around his waist. He pulls away, looking to see that it’s Lush, the blonde girl from One. She raises her sword again but Louis slinks his arm through a strap on the backpack so that it rests on his forearm and he holds up one of the long three pronged knives so that the metal of their weapons clashes.

“Lush!” A male scream comes from the other side and she gives Louis a pointed look before retreating around to answer to it. Louis knows it must be the other Tribute from One.

Louis quickly stands up, finding Harry grabbing at some supplies. “Harry!” Louis reacts like a fish out of water as he notices a large man, dark as charcoal with a scorned look on his face, inching up behind Harry with an axe. Louis doesn’t think twice. He doesn’t know how to use the weapons he’s grabbed but he knows how to throw a trident and so he does, he grips the handle of one of the knives and he thrusts it as hard as he can, biting his lip as it pierces the Tribute in his chest.

Harry runs toward Louis and Louis pulls him by his hand, running over to the fallen man and reluctantly pulling out the knife. “Let’s go into the woods!”

As they do, they see two small girls hiding in some of the trees. One of the girls has a horrific look on her face. Louis has never seen a small child look so afraid. “Wait, Harry.” He says and the girls’ eyes widen as they realize they’ve been seen. “No, no,” Louis says. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

Harry looks to Louis as if to question who he’s speaking to. Louis inches forward, putting the knives through his belt loops. “I have younger sisters,” Louis tells them quietly. “Do you want to come with us?”

The girls nod slowly, pushing away some of the branches that conceal them.

This elicits a knowing look from Harry. He nods, “I’m Harry.”

“We know,” one of the girls says, she has bright fiery hair and freckles. The girl next to her must be her sister, they’re exactly identical though one has a ponytail and the other has a braid. “You’re in love.”

Louis doesn’t deny it, he thinks it’d be stupid to. He knows the Capitol and all the Districts are watching. “What are your names?”

“Maya,” the girl with the braid looks up through her eyelashes at Louis.

The other girl does the same, “I’m Chloe.”

“Nice to meet you.” Louis feels absolutely sick. What does he do now? Now he’s got three Tributes he feels the responsibility to protect on top of himself and he wonders how this can possibly end well.

“You too,” Maya says. She doesn’t have any weapons or a backpack or anything. Neither does Chloe.

Harry smiles at the girls and then looks to Louis. “Come on, we should get going before the others get here.” The girls nod at this and Louis agrees as well.

***

Louis smiles on as Chloe and Maya giggle and poke at Harry. He lifts them up, one on each arm, and spins around a few times before they fall lightly onto the soft forest ground. Louis knows that this isn’t productive. Knows that this isn’t what they should be doing but he can’t help but feel joy knowing that these little girls can have a moment to forget that they’re in the Arena and that they’re fighting to the death, even against each other. He can only picture Mags smiling as she watched.

Chloe hugs Harry’s neck, smiling as wide as a little girl possibly can in such a situation. “You’re so silly!” She squeaks. Both of their eyes turn into sparkling wishing wells when they laugh, which reminds Louis so much of Daisy and Phoebe that he can hardly stop himself from tearing up like a little baby.

Louis is watching from a nearby log and he’s been practicing throwing his knives at the trees just in case he’ll need to use them again. In some perfect world, of course, he wouldn’t have to and he’d still be able to go home and see his family again.

“You remind us of Tom,” Maya says to Harry with a sense of pride.

“Tom?” Harry asks with a false accent, “I’m afraid I don’t know any Tom. Is he from round here?”

Chloe and Maya burst into laughter. “No, Tom! Our older brother!” “Well this Tom must be a fine fellow,” Harry chuckles, tickling at them and relishing their blissful responses.

Maya nods, “Tom was a very good brother.”

“Was?” Harry asks, stiffening up and Louis’ lips fall from each other in awe.

Chloe speaks then, “Yes, he died in the Games two years ago.”

“He was sixteen,” Maya frowns.

Louis looks away from the scene, hearing Harry whisper that he’s so sorry and he can see out of the corner of his eye as they all hug. It’s just so much to think about, so much to take in. He doesn’t want to think that it’s possible that such young girls can feel so much pain, that they can even _imagine_ so much pain. It’s unfathomable and so he simply chucks the knife at the tree and doesn’t feel any sense of accomplishment as it hits square in the center of the trunk.

***

“So you’re twins?” Louis asks as they sit by the stream. They’ve found a place of peace and they decide to rest. Louis is digging into his backpack, looking for anything resembling a cup when he hears a howl.

Harry is jumping up and Louis’ eyes go wide as Maya clutches at her hand. It’s covered in sores and is a fierce red. She’s crying out in pain and Chloe is whimpering things, clutching Maya’s arm and begging her to calm down. Maya finally tires out, tears still stream down her face but she’s only quietly groaning.

“She was just cupping her hand to get some water,” Chloe tells Louis.

Harry and Louis exchange skeptical looks and then fare the displeasure of dropping a small leaf into the water and watching as it disintegrates, smoke rising from the stream. “It’s like acid,” Louis observes.

The sun is setting and so they decide they’ll have to rest there for the night, Louis doesn’t know how to help Maya feel better so he just sings to them and hopes they fall asleep. A small beeping noise occurs, however, and Harry rises to look around, finally catching a small silver box attached to a parachute.

“It’s a gift from a sponsor,” Harry says. He opens it and then pulls out a small white card. “No, wait. It’s from Mags. She says ‘it’ll sting but it’ll work.’ and she’s scribbled a little heart...” He hands Louis the box and the older boy looks at the card for a moment before pulling out a tiny spray bottle. He immediately knows what it’s for.

“Okay, Maya, listen please. This might sting for a moment but it’s going to numb the pain, okay? I need you to try not to cry or be too loud, though. I know it hurts, I know it. But we don’t want the other Tributes to find us, all right?” Maya nods and Louis rubs his palm against her head, pulling a few strands of hair from her face along the way. He bites down on his lip and sprays the solution onto Maya’s hand and she cringes, writhes even, but within moments she lets out a silky breath and sighs.

“Thank you, Louis.” Maya says, looking up into his eyes and he wants to cry because he’s so happy she’s okay and because he reminds him of his own sisters so much. Chloe thanks Louis as well and Louis just nods, falling back into Harry’s arms.

As the girls fall asleep, Harry runs his fingers through Louis’ hair. “That was brilliant, Lou.”

“Thanks,” Louis says, still a bit shocked at all that’s happened. They’ve heard so many canons. Louis knew how many there were before Maya was burned but after that he lost count. The Panem Anthem begins to play as Louis is lulled asleep, (Harry’s taken first watch) and he looks up at the sky, counting the faces of all of the fallen Tributes. He counts twenty nine total. That’s more Tributes than are usually in the Arena for the Games at all. Louis has a silent moment to think about the lives lost before he hears rustling in the grass.

Harry remains calm, “Shhh, shh, it’s okay. Just squirrels.”

***

In the morning light they decide it’s best to try and search for more fresh water as they’re becoming more dehydrated by the second. None of them have had fresh water since before the Games started and as they wander around Louis questions if the acidic water is part of the reason for so many dead Tributes.

The sky is a bright blue and Louis wonders how it can be so sunny and calm but such a chill can still be rushing through the woods. This, of course, jogs Louis’ memory of the power of the Gamemaker.

“Look!” Chloe cries out happily and Louis looks over to see what she’s so excited about. “One of the other Tributes must have left this here!” She’s right, Louis thinks. He looks to Harry who nods, shrugging a shoulder. Inside of a log, covered in moss for concealment is a backpack full of snacks and food. Even water bottles. “I could see that there were some crumbs leading up to it,” Chloe gushes.

“Grab it,” Louis says. “And let’s get far from here so when they get back looking for it they won’t find us!” He smiles at the girls and they nod happily. Once Maya has the backpack slung over her shoulder, Louis and Harry set off in the opposite direction, walking through the drapery of trees and abundance of greenery. A slight choking is all it takes for Louis to stop, eyes thrust open as wide as possible. He grabs Harry by the arm as he turns and he gasps to see Maya and Chloe both holding their throats, their eyes shut tight and their lips quivering. Blood is trailing down their chins and beginning to cover their hands.

“Maya!” Louis howls, “Chloe!” He sees the backpack on the floor and drops to his knees as the girls fall. Tears stream down his face as he sees that the girls are on their final breaths. “No, no! Come on, breathe. Breathe, please!”

Maya and Chloe both hold each others’ hand and Chloe sputters, blood beginning to cover the bottom half of  her face. “We shouldn’t have snuck a snack...”

  “No,” Louis whines, “No, don’t you say that. Don’t say that,” he says as his eyes well completely full of tears. Harry’s knelt beside him and he’s holding Maya’s cheek. “You two have to stay calm for me, okay? Please, please. Breathe, just breathe. It’s going to be okay. Tell them, Harry. Tell them!” He looks to Harry and his face is stained with tears as more fall hard against the forest floor and his lips are shaking. “Tell them it’ll be okay, Harry!”

Harry nods, biting back tears as best he can. “It’s going to be okay, it’s going to be okay.” He holds Maya’s shoulder as their breathing slows.

“Thank you,” Maya coughs and then her chest slows to a halt. Chloe’s does as well and Louis collapses onto her, sobbing and heaving.

“No,” Louis cries. “No, Harry, they can’t be dead.”

Harry’s lips fall apart to say something but before he can say anything two loud canons are fired and Louis’ sobs only intensify.

***

As Louis walks with Harry, their hands are meshed together and Louis doesn’t want to let go. He thought he’d be able to detach himself emotionally from the Games and in some ways he has but Chloe and Maya were so young, so like his sisters.

They’re back in the meadow. Louis sees that the snow-capped mountain is turning, quickly, from an innocent white mound into a dark, rumbling hill. “Harry,” he says slowly, pointing to the mountain.

“Volcano...” Harry mumbles slowly, watching in terror as the ground quakes and lava splutters from the top, flowing down the length at a monumental pace and high pitch screams can be heard as the trees shake and scorch. Canons go off in a flurry, Louis counts, ten, eleven, twelve. And as he and Harry run from the direction the lava is flowing from, silence ensues and they turn back to see that the magma is rising up against a force field.

“Twleve?” Louis says.

“Twelve,” Harry echoes.

They stand in awe, not sure what to do. It’s a second or two before they’re startled by a voice behind their backs. “Go, run!”

It’s Haymitch Abernathy, a Tribute from twelve. He’s the sharp-tongued boy from the interviews and Louis can’t help but be dumbfounded. “Why are you helping us?” He doesn’t mean to sound rude but he just can’t fathom it.

“Would you rather I killed you?” Haymitch hisses. “It’s me or them,” he says jabbing a sword like object in the opposite direction and Louis sees what he recognizes as three Tributes in the distance running toward them.

“Thank you,” Harry says, grabbing Louis’ hand and rushing him back into the woods which they’d already emerged from.

Louis can hardly run, he’s dehydrated and he’s not thinking straight, he hasn’t eaten or properly rested without waking up every three seconds in fright. “Shouldn’t we go back and help him? He helped us.”

“There isn’t anything we can do, Louis.” A canon goes off and Louis collapses on the ground.

***

Harry’s sitting over Louis and the sun is behind him, mixing around in colors that resemble pomegranates and raspberries. The younger boy has never looked so wonderful, no scars or blood to be seen, just a nice grey sweater draped over his shoulders and a seashell necklace dancing along his collarbones.

“Louis, thank God you’re awake,” Harry cries, tears forming in his eyes and he’s leaning down to kiss Louis, whose head is cradled in his lap. The tide is coming in and soaking Louis’ feet but he doesn’t mind, it’s nice and warm against his skin and it feels like home. Maybe, he thinks quickly, it is home.

“We have to get up,” Louis insists. “Come on, the other Tributes—”

Harry frowns, “Louis don’t you remember?” His lips melt together and he smiles, kissing Louis again and their lips collide like pieces that are meant for each other. It’s warm and inviting. Once Harry breaks the kiss he’s still smiling a stupid little grin at Louis. “They let us out, Louis. You and Haymitch and I.”

“They did?” Louis doesn’t quite understand. He doesn’t see how it makes any sense. Why would they do that? “How long was I asleep?”

Harry smiles, “few days.” He’s kissing Louis again and while Louis doesn’t want to complain about it, he has more questions that need to be answered.

“My mother? And my sisters?” He asks, sitting up slowly and looking around. He knows this beach like the back of his hand. He knows he _is_ back in District Four.

This doesn’t elicit such a happy expression from Harry. In fact his smile screws up into something more of a frown, his eyes setting down into the sand and his lips falling apart slowly.

“Harry? My mother and sister? Where are they?” He stands up and he doesn’t bother to dust off the sand from his pants, he just starts up away from the ocean. He’s in Harry’s arms before he knows it and he’s pushing away at the taller boy, “Harry, let me go!” The green eyes Louis adores so much are shut tight, sobs escaping his lips and his arms are shaking as they try and hold Louis still. “Let me go, Harry!” He tries to wriggle away but he can’t, Harry’s holding on too tight. “Where are they?!”

“They’re dead,” Harry sobs, “They’re dead, Louis, they’re dead.”

“No!” Louis yells, he punches at Harry in vain and throws his head back, wailing and begging Harry to tell him that it’s all a lie, to just give it up because it’s all got to be a joke. He grabs at some sand and throws it, gritted teeth and fresh tears, Louis shouts and hollers and wishes for something, _anything_ , anything but this.

And then he feels Harry’s hand tight against his arm and he opens his eyes and the tears are still stinging at his eyes but he’s not in the sand. He’s not at the beach at all. He’s in the meadow and Harry’s bloody. “Harry?” He can barely speak. It’s not a few moments of silence before Louis realizes that he’s bloody as well, that he can feel piercing pain all over his body and that he actually can’t open his right eye.

“Lou,” Harry groans. His voice is still as deep and sincere, it still drips in that Harry way but it sounds strained. Sounds like it’s hurting. Harry lowers his hand from Louis’ arm and lets their fingers intertwine. “It was those birds...” He can hear so much pain in Harry’s voice that he wants him to stop. He doesn’t want him to speak anymore. “They were pink... Like candy-floss.” Louis can see a slight smile on Harry’s face as he chokes out each syllable. “Their beaks were like skewers...”

“It’s gonna be okay, right, Harry?” Louis asks, unsure of what’s happening. “We’re gonna be okay?”

Harry nods slowly.  “Yes, of course, Lou.” He grips Louis’ hand tighter. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Louis rolls, agony shooting through him and he swears his bones crack with every centimeter he moves, swear his heart is being pierced by his ribs. He lays a kiss on Harry’s lips even though it is absolute misery to move and every wound threatens him. Louis cries as his head falls onto Harry’s chest and a whimper escapes Harry’s lips, it sounds like he says ‘I love you’ and the canon goes off.

The tears stain Harry’s shirt along with all of the blood and Louis lays there, sorrow becoming him as he feels his toes go numb. It’s a slow process but each part of him melts together, he feels nothing soon and his vision is overwhelmed by some inevitable brightness.

He thinks back to how they always say ‘let the odds be ever in your favor’ and he wishes for once he could tell the people that they are, that the odds are in his favor and that he and Harry are going to be returning to District Four to be with their families. But he can’t. And soon enough he can’t even cry anymore. Louis can’t even breathe and it’s the last breath he takes that he swears he sees Harry smiling at him again like none of this ever happened.

  

 

**Author's Note:**

> don't kill me. i just had to keep it canon i'm a sucker for canon.. i really really hope you liked it. please do tell me what you think, comments butter my biscuit. x
> 
> oh & yeah just to clear it up i didnt wanna awkwardly be like 'then harry died, then louis died' so it's all sorta figurative but yeah like louis was in so much pain he was hallucinating once he passed out but then he woke up and he and harry had been attacked by those birds that they mentioned killed some tributes in the 50th games. soo the canon went off bc harry passed and then louis did as well


End file.
